


Always Somebody Who Cares

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apartment Fire, Arthur Saves the Day, Arthur takes care of Merlin, Attempted Rape/Non-Con (Not Arthur/Merlin), Explicit Language, Fireman Arthur, Fluffy Ending, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Era, Protective Arthur, Remembering Tex, Rescue Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 10:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10897005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: When he turned his head, he found himself staring at a set of blue eyes—the clearest, bluest he could ever recall seeing—looking down at him. Merlin, beyond tired, wanted so very much for sleep to claim him, but he continued to look into those eyes. If he concentrated on them he wouldn’t have to think about anything other than the fact that he had been rescued.





	Always Somebody Who Cares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [texasfandoodler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/texasfandoodler/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Ladder 37](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545425) by [texasfandoodler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/texasfandoodler/pseuds/texasfandoodler). 



> Written for the [Remembering Tex Fest](http://remembering-tex.livejournal.com/) to celebrate the works of texasfandoodler, who sadly left us way too soon.
> 
> First off I want to say that it was not at all an easy decision to write this. At all. I was always going to write something angsty, but tackling _this_ wasn't in the cards... until it was.
> 
> Thanks so much to pelydryn77 for her wonderful beta on this. I can’t begin to tell you how much more poignant this story is because of her. There were extremely personal and difficult things I hadn't planned to include (it is easier to push things aside and ignore them), but she unknowingly coaxed me into broaching these sensitive memories and thoughts. For that I will be forever grateful. Writing this has been cathartic, and it might very well be the single most meaningful work of fiction I have ever written.
> 
> Title taken from the song _Somebody Who Cares_ by Paul McCartney
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

“ _Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break._ ”  
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Merlin opened his eyes and attempted to move, but something, or someone, prevented him from doing so. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but he couldn’t speak. He thought someone was speaking to him. He tried to listen to understand, but he couldn’t. Was someone touching his face and wiping away tears? Wait, was he crying? He was exhausted and wanted to sleep, and he felt comfortable and protected enough to do so, but his head was killing him.

Something was wrong with his arm, and his throat hurt when he swallowed, but he didn’t know why.

Although he couldn’t remember what, Merlin knew that something was horribly wrong. He needed to do something, but as he tried to think what exactly he should be doing, his memories clouded over and took him back a few hours to his unfortunate meeting with Mordred at _The Rising Sun_.

 

_”Come on, baby, you know you want this,” Mordred whispered into Merlin’s ear as his hands began undoing Merlin’s belt. “I’ve seen you looking at me all night with those baby blues of yours.”_

_No, Merlin didn’t want _this_ , but, then again, maybe he did. He had been flirting with Mordred for the past two hours, hadn’t he? And it had been a while since he’d been fucked. What would be the harm in a quick shag with a pretty bloke behind the pub? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been taken against this very wall by a handsome bloke who was bad news. _

_He’d deal with his bruised ego in the morning._

_But as soon as Merlin was roughly turned around and pushed up against the wall, his half-hard cock protested being smashed between him and the unforgiving bricks, he knew this was all wrong. He wanted out, but he knew Mordred and understood that he wouldn’t stop._

_Merlin tried to push Mordred off him by bucking back into him, with no luck. Mordred’s hold on him was too strong._

_Merlin sighed. He felt physically ill, but maybe he just needed to get it over with and let Mordred have his way._

_That thought lasted a few seconds, but when Merlin was again shoved hard and his face connected with the edge of a half crumbled brick, he decided enough was enough. “Get off!” he screamed as loud as he could. He hoped that would be enough, but, if not, maybe someone would hear him._

_“I mean it, Mord, get the fuck off,” said Merlin, his voice now calm but deep. “Go find Cenred. He can’t get enough of you.” Merlin couldn’t help but snort—Cenred was about as creepy as they came—but when Mordred roughly turned him around and hit him in the jaw, Merlin thought perhaps he should have chosen to keep quiet._

_“You bloody bastard!” Merlin’s face was alight with pain, and when he reached up to feel his mouth, blood was trickling down his lip. Fortunately, Mordred’s aim had missed his nose, but only just. How was he going to explain this to his mother at their Saturday lunch?_

_Not usually one for violence, Merlin felt a particularly sinister wave wash over him and wanted nothing more than to pommel the bastard into the ground. When he said no, which he didn’t often do, he meant it. How dare some little shit like Mordred think he could do as he liked._

_Merlin was about to retaliate when someone came round the corner—a beautiful girl who looked to be around his age. He hadn’t seen her like around these parts before; if he had he would surely have remembered._

_She was a princess amongst the paupers._

_If Merlin went for the ladies, he’d be all over her._

_“You!” the gorgeous brunette said in an ominous voice, her face angry as she pointed her finger at Mordred and continued to walk towards them. “Let him go and get your sorry arse out of here before I call my Uncle Agravaine to personally escort you away.”_

_Mordred’s eyes widened. He let go of Merlin as if he were on fire and looked at him for a couple seconds, perhaps deciding what was more important: pleasure or getting away from the woman who was looking at him as if he were the scum of the earth. He bolted in the direction opposite._

_Merlin opened his mouth to thank the beautiful lady, but her image was replaced with all sorts of loud noises that made his head hurt more than it already did._

 

A cacophony of sound that wouldn’t be unfamiliar in the bustling metropolis of Camelot during rush hour, but one that was most definitely out of place in the small, rural village of Ealdor, came to life in one horrific moment as Merlin’s eyes flew open in a panic, but the flashing lights encumbered his senses in such agonizing fashion that his reflexes kicked in and he squeezed them shut, paralyzed with fear as it all came back to him.

Fire.

His flat was on fire and he couldn’t get out. His door was stuck, and due to the fact that he’d come in from his pub crawl pissed, he’d stupidly left his mobile on the kitchen counter.

He remembered yelling and beating on the wall that he shared with the tenant next door, hoping that his pleas would be heard, but that seemed like an eternity ago. He guessed no one was coming.

But as the lights and sounds around him became louder and clearer, Merlin sensed that he might no longer be in his room. He could no longer feel the heat that had threatened to breach the door, although he could still smell and taste the acrid smoke that continued to infuse his throat and lungs. There was also a cool breeze wafting across his face, and he heard someone speaking. The voice was muffled, but it sounded close. Very close. And there was movement.

Was someone carrying him?

He barely opened his eyes, but it was enough to see the familiar stairs that were located next to his flat.

And when he turned his head, he found himself staring at a set of blue eyes—the clearest, bluest he could ever recall seeing—looking down at him. Merlin, beyond tired, wanted so very much for sleep to claim him, but he continued to look into those eyes. If he concentrated on them he wouldn’t have to think about anything other than the fact that he had been rescued.

“Thank you,” he whispered, finding it difficult to get the words out. His throat was raw, whether from screaming or the smoke, he hadn’t a clue, but he repeated himself. He needed whoever was carrying him to safety to know how appreciative he was.

When he next woke, Merlin was most thankful that the piercing noises from before were gone, replaced with something beeping in a staccato rhythm. It almost sounded like he was in hospital.

Merlin’s eyes popped open. He remembered.

Hospital is exactly where he was because there had been the fire, and someone had rescued him and carried him to safety, hadn’t they? Merlin’s memories began to return. He remembered being held. He also recalled the man telling him he would be fine.

Fine? Merlin let out a strangled laugh and a bit of a whimper. He was most definitely not at all fine.

Everything he owned had been in that small flat. Not that it had been much, mind, but it had been his and he had taken pride in it. Now he’d have to start all over.

Merlin lifted a hand to wipe away a tear, but winced when a significant jolt of pain tore through him. He turned to study his arm and noticed a white bandage covering a large area just beneath his elbow. He again attempted to lift it. He forced himself to continue until his hand was resting on his chest. The process was excruciating, but at least he could move it. That was something, right?

He then attempted to move his other appendages and was heartened to find that there was no significant pain anywhere else, so he moved his attention to the pain searing through his chest. He lowered the sheet and was unsurprised to see another bandage covering the left side of his waist. He wasn’t wearing pants, which was understandable because of the injury, but the thought of someone removing them wasn’t one Merlin wished to dwell on. With shaking hands he covered himself again and shut his eyes. 

When had he been injured? There was no memory of that. One minute he’d been beating on the door, and the next thing he knew he’d been outside in someone’s arms. The in-between bits were what he had no memory of.

He began to shiver. This was a nightmare, one he didn’t want to face. He squeezed his eyes shut and begged for slumber to take him away.

There would be much to do in the coming days—his first order of business would have to be to get a new mobile—but whilst he was in hospital he didn’t want to think about any of it. He wanted to sleep and act as if nothing had happened.

It was truly a good idea, but Merlin knew it would be impossible for him to rest anytime soon. If history was any indication—his extreme phobia of fires had manifested itself in unsettling ways over the years—he knew he was in for a long next several months. That thought alone disheartened him.

He tossed and turned for several minutes, wanting to cry because he was so very tired and wanted his mother. He wondered if anyone had called her.

Just as his mother had asked him to do, Merlin kept her number in the pocket of his jeans, so if anyone had looked there they would have seen that it was Merlin’s mother’s number, and they would have called her. Or so he hoped.

He was so very alone.

As he was about to give in to the torrent of tears that was just beneath the surface, a nurse walked in and saved him from himself, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to put his emotions on hold for long.

The nurse, called Gwen, was lovely. She made small talk as she checked his vitals, regaling him with what had to be a made up story about the Merlin of legend. Merlin had read up on all things Merlin—his name being, well, Merlin—and he didn’t recall the old man with a pointy hat and white beard ever being in the stocks because he had disrespected the king’s son. As she removed the bandages and redressed his injuries, she told him that his burns weren’t horrid, but that maybe he should wait a few days before he looked at them. 

Normally overly curious, Merlin wisely decided that the nurse knew what she was talking about.

The last thing she did before she left was hand Merlin a small cup with pain meds and a glass of water. When he asked if they would make him sleepy, she studied him for several seconds before answering. She smiled wanly and told him that the meds would ease his pain, and that if he wanted to sleep they would help him to that end, but if he would rather stay awake, the meds wouldn’t deny him that.

Merlin closed his eyes and immediately felt himself drifting off.

He woke to someone caressing his cheek, but he didn’t open his eyes. He listened to his mother speaking softly, telling him that he was going to be fine and that all he needed to worry about was getting better.

Why was everyone telling him he was fine when he wasn’t? It upset Merlin, but he had to admit that when his mother said it, he almost believed her.

Several seconds later, he decided to open his eyes because if there was one person in the whole of the world who could make Merlin feel as if his life wasn’t as dire as it was, it was his mum. Even if her motherly platitudes were only talk, his mother’s _talk_ was preferable to just about anything else at the moment.

He should have realised that as soon as he opened his eyes he wouldn’t be able to hold back the sob that broke forth. And he shouldn’t have become cross with himself for such. But he hadn’t and he did, and then his mother was sitting on the edge of his bed, wiping away her son’s tears and telling him it was okay for him to cry, that he had been through a trauma few could understand.

It took several minutes for Merlin to calm down enough to speak, but he wondered if he would ever be truly calm again. It was as if he were a different person now. Where he had been carefree the day before, the weight of the world now sat upon his shoulders, and he didn’t have a clue how he was to go forward.

He closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

When he next opened his eyes, it wasn’t quite dark out, but well on its way to being so. His mother was nowhere to be seen, but Merlin guessed she had gone for something to eat. He was still tired and felt extremely sluggish, probably due to the meds the nurse had given him.

He was attempting to sit up when there was a knock at the door. Merlin frowned. His mother wouldn’t have knocked, and there was no one else who would come to see him. Well, there was his Uncle Gaius, but he was away at a conference in Rothenburg. Perhaps it was Gilly, but he was at uni, which was four hours away. It could be Will, who was his best mate, but as he had a severe phobia of hospitals, Merlin was almost certain that it wouldn’t be him.

Curious, he opened his mouth to ask who it was, but the door opened at the same time and Gwen walked in, followed by a handsome bloke who looked as if he had just walked straight off the catwalk in Paris. His hair, blond and slightly mussed, fringe falling into his expressive eyes, and his scraggly beginnings of a beard combined to make what Merlin thought of as the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

Unlike the gorgeous brunette of the night before, whom Merlin had most assuredly admired and appreciated for her immense beauty, yet hadn’t felt the least bit of attraction for, this bloke caused every synapse Merlin possessed to fire, and every inch of him wanted to run his fingers through that lovely blond hair and do unspeakable things to those luscious lips.

He should probably close his mouth lest he catch a fly.

“Mr Emrys?” Gwen said softly. “Your mother stepped out to get a bite to eat and wanted me to tell you she’d be back within the hour. I was on my way to deliver the message when this young man asked if he could come see you.” She motioned towards the man standing in the doorway and smiled, her entire face lighting up as he fully entered the room and stood beside her.

Merlin grinned and gave a slight nod, mildly curious who the man was whom both he and Gwen seemed to have a thing for, but as the man came more in focus and the light hit his face, Merlin couldn’t help the gasp when it occurred to him just who the man was.

Small bits of memory began to resurface. He remembered those same blue eyes looking at him as a soft but firm voice told him to close his eyes and to tuck his head into the other’s chest. Merlin tried speaking several times before his mouth would work. “Were you the person who rescued me?” he asked, much too meekly for his liking, but the wealth of gratitude that ran through him was overwhelming.

 _Handsome Bloke_ nodded and smiled, perfect dimples and all. “Yes, it was me. My shift has ended so I wanted to check to see that you were okay,” he said before turning to Gwen. “Do you mind if I talk to Mr Emrys for a few minutes?”

After a quick check of his temperature, Gwen left the two alone, but not before giving Merlin’s rescuer strict orders to keep it brief and to not upset her patient.

Merlin, who usually had no trouble speaking his mind and chatting up others, especially fit blokes like this one, had no idea what to say, so he remained silent as he surreptitiously watched _Handsome Bloke_ make his way over to the chair that Merlin’s mother had used earlier. He looked to be about the same age as Merlin, but he was probably several years older. Merlin was in his first year at uni and was fairly certain that, no matter how talented they were, one didn't leave uni and begin fighting fires straight away. He opened his mouth to ask how old his rescuer was when _Handsome Bloke_ cleared his throat and smiled. Merlin, knowing that anything he had to say wouldn't be anywhere near as interesting as what the other had to say, closed his mouth.

“How is your arm? It didn't look too good earlier. I tried to be as careful as I could, but I’m afraid I had to pull on it to get you out from behind the door. I hope I didn’t do any more damage to it,” Merlin’s rescuer said, looking over at Merlin’s wrapped up arm. “Oh, I’m Arthur, by the way. Arthur Pendragon.” He said this last bit quietly, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, and he looked uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his hair.

Merlin wondered if his eyes looked as wide as he thought they did. He couldn’t help the small laugh. Of all the people who could have saved him… “You’re Uther Pendragon’s son. The big disappointment, the one who decided not to follow in his father’s footsteps.” Now Merlin was grinning. He didn’t know Arthur Pendragon, other than what he heard on the news and read online, but he already knew they were going to get on well.

Maybe.

Arthur was frowning at the moment, and he didn’t look at all happy.

Merlin quickly schooled his face and cleared his throat. “Hey, mate, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what I was thinking.” More like he _hadn’t_ been thinking. His mother was forever telling him that he needed to think before he spoke.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. ”Sorry, it’s just a sore subject with me. I don’t much appreciate that my life is out there for everyone to ogle; believe me, it’s nothing to be envious of, I can assure you.” And now he looked all sad, his lovely blue eyes focused on Merlin.

Merlin wondered how it would feel to suck those pouty lips into his mouth and lave them with his tongue, but that wasn’t anything he should be thinking about with the object of his current fantasies so near. He cleared his throat and hoped his face wasn’t as red as he thought it might be. “I’m Merlin, and, well, I would be lying if I said I didn’t envy you,” he said truthfully, though he did at least try to look apologetic.

His mother had worked her arse off to support herself and her son, and now Merlin worked a part time job to help with uni expenses. He could certainly do with some of Arthur’s father’s millions. He would settle for _one_. “So, you’re a firefighter. Can you tell me what happened last night?” he asked, not at all sure why, since the last thing he wanted to think about was the fire. If he never talked about it, that would be fine with him. “And would you mind helping me sit up? I’m getting tired of lying down.”

It took some careful finagling to get Merlin comfortable, but once he was in a sitting position, three pillows behind him, he felt much better, more so because of the extra care Arthur was giving him. He had been so very gentle, and when Merlin had allowed Arthur to lift him and they’d been close enough that their noses touched, it had been all Merlin could do to keep from closing the distance and pressing his lips against Arthur’s.

His immense feelings were no doubt because he had just been rescued from certain death by his _knight in shining armour_. Merlin understood that, and that was the reason he hadn’t kissed Arthur. Well, that and the fact that he was Merlin Emrys and this bloke was one of, if not the richest, young blokes in Albion. Arthur Pendragon probably had some super model tucked away that he couldn’t wait to get home to.

Once Merlin was settled, Arthur sat back down and seemed to think on what he should say. He took a few deep breaths, and after making sure that Merlin really wanted to know what had happened, he began. “My last regular shift was yesterday morning. I would have been home asleep when the call came in about the fire, but a mate of mine and my sister made a bet with me a week ago, and I lost, so I had to come in and work my mate Leon’s graveyard shift. I wasn’t happy, but a bet’s a bet.

“When the call came in to Camelot requesting help with a fire in Ealdor, my captain said it was a bad one and that I needed to help on the ladder truck, but that I was not to go inside the building under any circumstance. When we arrived and saw that the entire first floor of the complex was engulfed, I was again given orders not to go in. I’m new, you see, and, well, the captain is reluctant to allow _Uther Pendragon’s son_ to do his job.” He sighed, frustration clear on his face.

Merlin nodded. “That can’t be fun,” he said, a bit more mirth in his voice than he intended. An overprotective parent, he could understand, but he couldn’t imagine any boss giving a rat’s arse about their employee. In Merlin’s experience, they certainly hadn’t cared about his safety. Then again, he was neither rich, powerful, nor connected.

“You have no idea,” Arthur said as he looked down at his hands and studied them. “All of the residents from the first floor were all safely out, but there were still a few trapped in the ground floor flats, so we, _all except for me_ , went in and got them out. 

“After some time, word was given that everyone had been rescued, but this young girl ran up to me in tears and told me that someone was in the middle flat. The captain, who was standing nearby, saw that I was ready to run in, so he told me to stand down. He said it was too dangerous to go in, but the girl was screaming. I thought maybe she was your daughter, and the thought of her losing a parent was too much. I couldn’t let that happen, so I disregarded my orders. I ran in after you.” At this, Arthur stopped and turned his head back toward Merlin, clearly shaken by the memory. “She wasn’t your daughter, was she?”

Merlin shook his head. “No,” he said in little more than a whisper as a hollow feeling settled in his chest. Arthur had looked so very sad when talking about losing a parent. It made Merlin want to comfort him. Everyone knew that the Pendragon matriarch had died soon after her son’s birth. Merlin knew he and Arthur had very little in common, but one thing they shared was the fact that neither of them had known one of their parents. The absence of Merlin’s father would forever haunt him. He knew it was the same for Arthur. “Erm, that was Mithian. While her father’s at work, I watch her,” Merlin answered before clearing his throat.

Arthur let out a shaky breath and mouthed something Merlin couldn’t decipher. “Your flat was the first one on the ground floor to catch fire. It was foolish to go in—I knew that.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. If he’d looked sad before, now he looked distraught as he whispered, “I’m glad I didn’t know that she wasn’t your daughter.”

Merlin nodded, understanding the weight of what that meant. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around how someone could have risked their life to run into a burning building to rescue him, but he was grateful for such and would never look at firefighters in quite the same way again.

If it had been him, and if someone had been trapped in a fire, Merlin wasn’t so sure he could have gone in after them.

He had always been petrified of fire, so much so that he never had been able to light a candle, even with those long lighters. His mate Will had never understood his phobia until he had developed his own (hospitals), but his mother had. She had shushed Will whenever he made fun of a young Merlin for not wanting to light a candle or for hiding behind the sofa when a firetruck came on the tele.

Fear of lighting a candle or hiding from firetrucks was nothing to waking up and seeing a fire through the crack beneath your door. Merlin closed his eyes as he remembered the panic he’d felt, and he had to forcefully slow his breathing. He felt a hand on his back. It served to center him, but he could still see the fire.

“It’s okay, Merlin. You’re safe in hospital. I got to you in time,” said Arthur as he rubbed circles on Merlin’s back with one hand and moved the fringe from Merlin’s forehead with the other.

Merlin wanted so badly to lean into Arthur. He wanted Arthur to hold him, to make him forget, but Arthur was a stranger who, before the fire, had never set eyes on Merlin before. Yes, he had come to check on him in hospital, but that was the right thing to do, and he’d done it. He would soon be gone, and Merlin would never see him again.

Gathering himself as much as he could, Merlin looked up and gave his best smile to Arthur. “Sorry. I should tell you that I have a really bad phobia of fires. When I was a baby there was a fire under my cot. My mother woke and saw it right before it reached me. It sounds unreal, but I remember the feeling of the heat. I knew that I needed to get my mother’s attention, but I didn’t know how. I obviously did because she woke and everything was okay, but I guess that sort of thing never leaves you.” Merlin had to stop as the memory overwhelmed him, but he continued talking when he saw Arthur opening his mouth. Merlin wanted to finish his story before he lost the nerve.

“So, yeah, that was quite enough to be going on with, but some years back my aunt’s house burnt down and, for over a year, I couldn’t fall asleep until it was light out. Now, with this, well, I’m pretty much fucked,” he said, thinking too late that he probably shouldn’t have cursed in front of someone he had only just met. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to fall asleep again by myself.” Once again Merlin was near panic, and this time he couldn’t calm himself.

He somehow found himself propped up against Arthur’s chest, both of them on the bed. He had no idea how that had happened, but it had. Merlin closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, but when he heard Arthur making a pained noise, he opened them and turned his head to see Arthur’s left shoulder, bandaged, and Arthur was breathing in and out as if he were trying to let the pain pass.

“Did that happen when you were rescuing me?” Merlin asked, swallowing, feeling another wave of sadness at the thought of causing someone such pain, but before Arthur could answer him, Merlin’s mother walked in, a somewhat shocked expression on her face, but it quickly morphed into a grin.

Most assuredly, she had spoken to Gwen and been informed of who the man in her son’s room was, but it was a testament to her knowing her son as well as she did that Merlin’s mother didn’t make a huge scene at finding her son propped up against another man’s chest; in fact she barely batted an eyelash as she walked up to Arthur, shook his hand, and thanked him for saving her son’s life.

Merlin must have fallen asleep because when he next woke, Arthur was gone, and his mother had nodded off in the chair.

How could he have fallen asleep? Merlin berated himself. Now he would most likely never see Arthur again. But, he reasoned, he’d got on well enough before Arthur. He’d get on well enough without him.

It wasn’t as if they’d been destined to have a torrid love affair, but, still, there was a physical ache in Merlin’s heart at the thought of never seeing Arthur again. Yes, it was probably mostly down to his continued feelings of gratefulness for being rescued, but it was also because Arthur was beautiful and lovely and all the things Merlin wanted to find in someone.

Will called the next afternoon, and he and Merlin talked for two hours. Merlin laughed hysterically as his best mate told him about Elena and Morgause stealing Mordred’s clothes while he was swimming in the heated pool at the gym and that he had been late to Algebra. Apparently, Mr Miggs had called him out and told him if he didn’t take the class seriously, perhaps he should do himself and everyone else a favour and drop it whist he still could.

Of course this had his mother looking at him with raised eyebrows when he relayed the story to her. She said that he and his friends shouldn’t be so mean to Mordred.

Her reaction would have been quite different had she known that the boy in question had tried to rape her son, but that wasn’t anything Merlin felt ready to share with her. He probably never would.

The ONLY good that had come out of the fire was that his mother hadn’t enquired how he’d got a bruised face and busted lip—she’s assumed they’d happened in the fire. Merlin allowed her to think such.

As he was eating his supper, Gwen brought in a floral arrangement and set it on the table beside his bed. It was much larger than any of the other plants or flowers his friends had sent, so he asked Gwen to read the note.

 

_Merlin, I heard what happened to you. I do hope you will recover fully. I know you do not know me, and I know very little about you, but I know enough to know that you are a good person. Maybe when you get better and feel like it, you can come down to the Rising Sun and share a pint with me. I’d like to introduce you to my brother. Take care, my little fighter. Never stop._

_The one who kicked out that sorry, good-for-nothing Mordred_

 

Long after his mother had fallen asleep, Merlin wondered about that note. Though he had no real desire to go see the girl, no matter how beautiful she was, he knew he would. She had saved him, seemed to have taken a liking to him for some unfathomable reason, and she wanted to introduce him to her brother. 

If he looked as lovely as she did…

Merlin had never been one to go on a _blind date_ —he loathed not knowing what he was getting himself into—but he trusted this girl for whatever reason. It would take him a while to feel like getting out again, but hopefully it wouldn’t be too late when he was ready.

When the next morning dawned, it was raining, and the room was bathed in an eerie darkness as thunder and lightning unsettled Merlin.

In the past he had lived for rainy days—he’d loved curling up on his sofa and reading, writing, watching tele, or sleeping—but at this very moment the turbulent weather served to upset Merlin and to remind him how very messed up his life was.

Whilst in hospital he was falling behind at uni and didn’t know if he’d be able to catch up. His course load was heavy and he had worked his arse off to keep up as it was. Now this. He knew that Freya would give him all her notes and that she would help him catch up, but Merlin had worked so hard to finally get into uni. If he lost his scholarship because of his being in hospital…

He must have fallen into a restless sleep because when he awoke, his mother was seated beside him, holding his hand and looking at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world.

To her, he knew he was.

~*~

Two event-filled days later, Merlin was released, and he thought if he never again saw the inside of a hospital, that would be more than fine with him. He’d had two skin graft procedures the day before, and while they had been successful and the doctors seemed to think they would both take and heal normally, his arm, waist, and buttocks (where they’d taken the skin from to replace the burnt skin) now itched something terrible.

He was taking meds to control the almost debilitating uncomfortable feeling that seemed to rule his every second, but that didn’t mean his mum hadn’t told him once or a hundred times to stop scratching.

As he was sat by the lift, waiting on his mother to finish filling out some final paperwork, the nurses continued to dote on him. It was quite embarrassing, but also nice. Merlin knew the attention would all be gone soon enough and he'd be left to his own thoughts when his mother left for work.

Gwen plied him with Caladryl samples and snuck him biscuits that she had made for him and his mum, and Vivian, who had discovered that she and Merlin shared a love for Classic Who, more specifically, the _Second Doctor_ , actually kissed him on the cheek and told him to call her sometime so they could schedule a Doctor Who marathon. 

His mother finished saying her goodbyes to the ladies at the desk before taking her place behind the wheelchair, ready to leave. Merlin wasn’t so sure he wanted to go, however—he wasn’t prepared to face what the immediate future held for him—but as he had no choice, he winked at his two favorite nurses. They had taken such good care of him. He lifted his right arm carefully and waved, only wincing slightly when the movement sent a jolt through him.

His mother then turned the wheelchair around and pushed it into the lift that had just opened.

Merlin stared ahead, his mouth wide open.

Arthur was standing in the lift, smiling kindly, looking just as beautiful as he had the other day when he had walked into Merlin’s hospital room.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, completely taken aback. He had accepted that he’d never see him again. “What are you doing here?” Merlin turned to look at his mother, hoping someone would have an explanation as to why she and Arthur were looking at one another, conspiratorial looks on their faces. Had they planned this?

“I’ve been called in to work this morning, Merlin,” his mother said, sighing, looking not at all happy as she knelt down before him. “I tried explaining what happened, but my boss said they’re short and need me. I didn’t know what to do, but then Arthur called to check on you. When he heard what was going on he said he was on his way. I told him no, that we could manage, but he refused to take no for an answer.” She looked up at Arthur. “Are you sure about this? I can call Merlin’s friend, Will. You surely have other things you need to be doing.”

As Merlin’s mother and Arthur were talking, Merlin tuned them out. All he could think about was what a bother he was being. His mother had got in trouble with her boss, and Arthur shouldn’t have to worry over him. He surely had more important things to do. Merlin roughly wiped at a tear and shook his head when his mother asked him what was wrong.

Then she was talking to Arthur again, saying something about Merlin needing to be in bed, and that she would be home to redress his burns.

When his mother leant down and kissed him on the cheek, he tried to smile, but those blasted tears burst forth and he wanted to bury his head. He wasn’t a baby. Why was he crying over such a stupid thing as his mother not being able to take him home?

His mother leant in and whispered in his ear. “You can’t tell me you haven’t dreamt about this, Merlin Emrys. Don’t forget that I’m your mother. I know you better than anyone. If Arthur wants to help you get to my house, let him. There are worse ways to spend your day, love.” She then stood and gave him one of her huge smiles that she saved only for him.

Merlin turned to Arthur and gave a curt nod. His mother had spoken the truth. “My personal knight in shining armour, come to take me away,” he said cheekily before looking back at his mother. “I’ll be fine,” he added more seriously, and he meant it. His life was crap, but he had the absolute best mother in the world, and now he might just have another friend in Arthur.

A few minutes later, Merlin sat in the passenger side of Arthur’s car, which probably cost more than Merlin’s mother’s house, and studied Arthur, who was backing out of the car park. He really was beautiful, and Merlin was having a difficult time believing that he was in a car with Arthur Pendragon.

Will was going to have kittens when he found out.

“Are you okay?” Arthur asked, as he turned onto the motorway. “You look a little pale.”

“Just tired,” Merlin mumbled as he yawned, but his arm was smarting. He needed to take his meds, but it would be another hour before he could take them.

When they arrived at his mum’s flat, Merlin went straight for the sofa and got comfortable while Arthur was in the kitchen, getting them something to eat. Merlin was hurting and felt like he could sleep forever. He turned the tele on and found series one of _Versailles_ , which Arthur hadn’t seen yet, then closed his eyes. 

He sat up to eat lunch, and he answered a few questions Arthur asked him about uni, but he was really starting to hurt and didn't feel much like talking. Thankfully, Arthur caught on straight away. He pushed play and began watching _Versailles_ as he began to eat his salad. As Merlin slurped his soup he couldn't help but stare at Arthur, who was probably bored, most likely missing his super model girlfriend. “You don't have to stay, Arthur. I'm perfectly capable of calling my mum if I need anything. I'm sure you have better things to do than stay here with me.” It was unlikely Arthur would leave, but Merlin wanted to give him that choice.

“No, I'm off for the next two days and don't have any plans today,” Arthur said before taking another bite. Once he swallowed and took a few sips of water, he wiped his mouth on his napkin and shook his head as he let out a small laugh. “Do you really think I would leave after telling your mother I would stay until she got home?” He then looked at his mobile before reaching into his shirt pocket and retrieving a small package. “Here, it's time to take your meds. Your mum will pick up your prescriptions at the chemist on her way home.”

Merlin gratefully took the offered pills and didn't waste any time popping them into his mouth and washing them down with the last bit of his water. He then got under the quilt and closed his eyes, hoping the meds wouldn't take long to start working. “Thanks, Arthur,” he said as he yawned, thinking that he was quite happy Arthur wasn't leaving. As much as he didn't want to be a bother, Merlin didn't want to be alone, and the thought of Arthur not wanting to disappoint his mother made Merlin inordinately happy. “Okay, you know where the food and the loo are. I think I’m gonna sleep now.” He could already feel himself drifting off.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up, Merlin.”


End file.
